Directed by:
Federico FelliniCinematography:
Otello MartelliComposer:
Nino RotaCast:
Marcello Mastroianni, Anita Ekberg, Anouk Aimée, Yvonne Furneaux, Magali Noël, Alain Cuny, Riccardo Garrone, Evelyn Stewart, Lex Barker, Annibale Ninchi (more)Plots(1)
Journalist and man-about-town Marcello struggles to find his place in the world, torn between the allure of Rome's elite social scene and the stifling domesticity offered by his girlfriend, all the while searching for a way to become a serious writer. (SPI International)
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Reviews (8)
While some scenes and the fates of some of the characters probably appealed to me exactly as they should have, I was rather bored for most of the drawn-out, gigantically overblown runtime. Not enough to keep me from making it to the end, but still enough. I will gladly give La dolce vita another chance, because it definitely needs it, but I won't be in a rush to do it.__P.S. Beautiful music by Rota.
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La Dolce Vita is not a film for everyone. It is a three-hour long portrait of the era and life of the high society. And it is of course quite good at that. It features certain scenes and musical themes that influenced the entire film industry, and have not grown old in decades. Some moments are a real pleasure to watch. But it’s still not enough for me to give it more than three stars. I understand that the message lies in the atmosphere of the times, but the filmmaking craft is not enough when the film lacks a soul and a story that would draw me in. Here I just watch people I don’t care about wasting their lives. They are of course unaware of it, and that’s why the film is called the way it is.
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Thanks for the depression, Maestro Fellini... It's been a long time since I've felt this miserable after watching a film as I am right now. La Dolce Vita is a sweetly frosted film, but beneath the surface it's as bitter as quinine. Visually, it acts as a mask – all those lavish parties, expensive gowns, bizarre cabarets, beautiful women... this is all just a cover for the inner emptiness of the world that Fellini displays with typical perspective and light sarcasm. Although one can withstand such a portrait of the "bourgeois" world of stars, it would not be Fellini not to let ordinary life and reality be mirrored in this artificial universe of artificial people. A reality that, through ubiquitous photographers and journalists, parasites on the aura of the "sweet" world of the rich and famous. And somewhere on the edge between the two worlds (the ordinary and "sweet") Marcello, brilliantly portrayed by M. Mastroinanni, staggers. He is a hero belonging to the thematic family of both Amarcord and Roma (whether he is the main character in the latter, or a common motive for leaving the harmonious countryside and fascination with the big world), at first glance a hedonist, at second glance an absolute loser whose inner emptiness is surrounded by a bleak apartment and eternally despairing girlfriends. Marcello grazes on the gloss, seducing one woman after another, sinking deeper and deeper into the void, despair. La Dolce Vita is nothing more than a game in which actors lose themselves and become a grotesque masks of wealth, beauty and success. And the outside world is similar, devouring the surface, devouring media-chewed information, sometimes reminiscent of a script directed by a malicious director (the sequence with a gathering after the alleged appearance of the Virgin Mary). And Marcello, instead of finally choosing a path in the midst of a general decline, when all values lose their meaning, sinks deeper and deeper into the sweet mud. Fellini offers nothing comforting; there is a bit of tragedy behind every humorous moment, traditional rescue themes such as motherhood, and others (the drastic scene with Steiner and his family) do not work either. All this is filmed with a large portion of film stylization (compared to the later documentary interest of Roma) and the fascination with visual, but at the same time, in a way cool, almost surgically accurate. To luxuriate, to search, to analyze and at the same time not be drawn in, is how I would probably describe Fellini's "baton" over this symphony of futility. La Dolce Vita is a damn bitter film. Bitter by seeing stylized beauty and feeling a completely prosaic nothingness with a pretty face. At some points, it may seem quite long-lasting, but in the end it is absolutely masterful. Bravo!
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Sometimes I struggle with these long-standing acclaimed films because I don't see their merit, and they don't entertain me. However, Federico Fellini directed a film that is narratively engaging, even though it's nearly three hours long. This opus about society, with its beautifully biting critique, is just something you have to appreciate.
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Sweet, but impenetrable. As much as Federico Fellini can captivate you and almost carry you away in some scenes, he can equally thoroughly bore you to pieces in this demanding three-hour film. Marcello Mastroianni plays the bohemian to the fullest, but his Marcello lacks the necessary character weight that such a presence deserves. And yet what disappoints me most is the change from an intimate drama to heavy criticism, which makes the whole film disintegrate into several parts that more or less cease to relate to each other. So, I remain somewhat at a loss in my rating. I can feel the power that this film can offer, which only a good film can provide, but it couldn't fully reach me.
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